


Long-Distance

by the_pen_is_mightier



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual, Fluff, Long-Distance, Love, M/M, Some angst, Sweetness, lockdown - Freeform, this is my lockdown fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25492810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pen_is_mightier/pseuds/the_pen_is_mightier
Summary: They're feeling lonely, still apart in lockdown. But at least they can hear each other's voices.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81





	Long-Distance

“I’m lonely.”

Aziraphale’s chest ached at the words. Crowley wasn’t pleading when he said them, wasn’t asking Aziraphale for anything; he just sounded tired. And of course he was. After those brief, beautiful months of going to restaurants and parks and zoos together all the time, unfettered and in each other’s arms, how could he not be tired of this? 

Yet still the words made Aziraphale ache. He sighed as he adjusted his position at the edge of the sofa he’d been reading on. 

“This will all be over eventually,” he said, trying to infuse his voice with positivity. “We’ll go out again. Restaurants will open. We’ve been around for six thousand years, you know, we’ve seen things worse.” 

“Yeah. I know.” 

Aziraphale heard the unspoken words. _But it’s different._ In this new world, when they were supposed to be together, another forced separation felt a million times different from lonely centuries spent under Heaven and Hell’s rules before. 

At least the humans had invented telephones. At least he still got to hear Crowley’s voice, tired as he sounded after a months-long nap that hadn’t ended with the world any more resolved. At least he got to say things to Crowley he never would have been allowed to say before.

“Look,” he murmured, the false positivity dropping from his voice and transforming to gentleness. “We’re still talking. Why not imagine we’re together, for a little while?”

Crowley huffed on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”

“On the sofa in my back room. I’ve just been reading.”

After a moment of silence, a little affirming hum sounded through the phone, setting a smile to Aziraphale’s lips. “Well. If I were there, I’d wrap you up in my arms and lie on your belly like a pillow.” 

“Yes, dear?”

“Just…” Crowley breathed in. “Just hold you, tight as I could. Softest pillow in the world.”

Aziraphale stroked his fingers over the pages of the book he still held open on his lap. “I’d read to you, darling. Would you like that?” 

Crowley chuckled; a warm sound, a little less tired than before. “You know I would.”

“A section from _Great Expectations_ , perhaps.” 

“Or maybe one of Austen’s.”

“Oh, you old romantic.” 

The smile was audible in Crowley’s voice when he responded. A warm, loving smile. “I like the way your voice sounds. When you’re reading. Goes all soft and excited, and - Someone, angel, you sound so _happy._ ” 

“I’m happy when you’re holding me.” 

There was silence on the other end. Aziraphale could practically hear Crowley flushing scarlet. 

“Maybe,” he said gently, “if you were here, I’d run my fingers through your hair and tell you how much you mean to me. How would that be, do you think - if I took an hour or three to lay it all out for you?”

Crowley made an incoherent noise. Warmth buzzed in Aziraphale’s chest.

“My love,” he said, “would that be all right?”

“Y-yeah,” Crowley muttered. “It’d be nice.”

“Close your eyes, then, and imagine you’re lying here against me.” Aziraphale shut his eyes and imagined Crowley’s head on his belly, his thin arms clinging around him, holding him so close and so adoringly it was almost more than Aziraphale could stand. “Imagine we’re together. My dearest, my beloved Crowley, you’re the most important thing in my universe.”

That hum again, that contented little sound, which was the same one Crowley had made the first time they kissed over a year ago. 

“You’ve loved me so well,” Aziraphale whispered. “So patiently. For six thousand years, you’ve been so _kind_ to me, you’ve given me so much. It’s incredible to me every time I think about it. And I do think about it, you know - I think about _you_ , every day, even now.” 

“Angel.” Crowley’s voice was a little choked.

“Is that all right, dear?”

“Angel, my angel - _you’re_ incredible. You’re the best angel in the universe. Best person, too.” 

“Ah.” Aziraphale opened his eyes and smiled at the ceiling, relishing the words. “How wonderful that you think so.” 

Their silence stretched on a little longer, now. Crowley’s breath was still audible through the phone, and despite everything happening in the world outside, the chaos and the confusion and the pain, Aziraphale was infinitely glad of being able to hear that sound. He thought as long as he could hear it things still might be all right. 

“If you were here,” Aziraphale said, “I’d kiss you.”

Crowley sounded satisfied when he answered. “I’d kiss you back.”

That was enough for now. Enough, for a little while, to stave off the loneliness.

**Author's Note:**

> Like my content? Find me on tumblr @[whatawriterwields](https://whatawriterwields.tumblr.com)!


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